#noncon kissing cw

[whumperful]

More creepy/intimate whumper things

Part 1 can be found here! Happy Valentine's Day!

Cleaning Whumpee while they're tied up in bath

Playing with Whumpee's hair before roughly pulling it

Nuzzling Whumpee or possesively putting an arm around them while they're in public

Groping Whumpee in public

Holding Whumpee's face to examine them

Forcefully kissing Whumpee and biting their lip until it bleeds

Calling Whumpee pet names and refusing to use their actual name

Forcing Whumpee to undress Whumper

Making Whumpee sleep in the same bed as Whumper (tied up or not)

Forcing Whumpee to pretend they're in a romantic relationship with Whumper (in front of Caretaker)

Touching/kissing Whumpee while they sleep

Hand-feeding Whumpee

Whumper forcing their fingers into Whumpee's mouth

Whumper filming/taking pictures of Whumpee while they're in a compromised position

[hurtthemgently]

Sometimes you’ve gotta give your whumpee a little kiss on the nose

-every one of my whumpers

[bloodfreak-boyking]

i literally can't stop thinking about shifter!dean so i curse thee with a brain dump ficlet. cw for non-con groping & kissing

---

"See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends, you could have a life," the shifter said, Dean's stolen face barely visible in the dim sewer light. His eyes flicked between Sam's, hurt and something unidentifiable swimming in them. "Me?" He leaned in closer, the space between them growing hot and humid. Sam could feel the shifter's breath on his cheek. "I know I'm a freak."

Sam scowled, glaring the creature down. "What the hell are you talking about?" Dean was a lot of things; a nerd, a jerk, disgustingly charming, but not a freak. That title was reserved for Sam.

A grin twitched across the shifter's lips. "Oh, you don't know, do you?" it said, amusement thick in his voice.

Sam knew he should ignore it, this impulse to get insight into his brother's mind, his thoughts and feelings that he kept held so closely to his chest. The thing would probably lie anyway. But Sam was never good at resisting temptation. "Know what?"

Not-Dean was suddenly straddling Sam's thighs, a lascivious smile on his face. Sam instinctively tried to move away, but the rope kept him from doing much more than squirming under the creature's weight. A low chuckle rumbled in its chest. "Dean here?" It shoved its hand between them, roughly palming Sam through worn denim. Sam tried to stifle a gasp, only half succeeding. "He wants you. Hell, he's wanted you since he was seventeen."

Sam felt frozen, shock making his limbs feel numb. Or maybe that was the rope cutting off his circulation, he couldn't really spare the brain power to tell. "Wh-what? No, you...you're lying."

The shifter leaned in closer, nipping at Sam's earlobe. "Oh, the things he wants to do to you." He ground his hips down against Sam's lap forcefully. "His sweet little Sammy."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam registered Not-Dean was hard. Another sharp bite, this time to the hinge of his jaw, had him letting out a startled yelp.

The shifter groaned against his skin. "God what he would give to hear you make noises like that." It grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair, yanking down on it hard. Sam, in an attempt to stifle a loud cry, let a pitiful whimper slip past his lips instead. The creature's eyelids fluttered shut. "Fuck, yeah, just like that."

Warm, plush lips were suddenly on him, sliding against his stock-still ones. Before his brain could send the message of no bad no, his own lips were moving. The shifter growled and pulled his head back further, drawing a gasp out of Sam and giving himself an opening to lick deep into Sam's mouth. A soft moan escaped Sam. What could he say? The thing could kiss. Dean could kiss.

It was like a bucket of ice water was dumped on him. He twisted his head away, forcibly breaking the kiss. His heart was hammering in his chest and his stomach flipped and the worst part was, Sam couldn't tell if it was disgust or...

The shifter slowly stood, still trying to catch its breath. It reached down and grabbed one of their duffel bags, swinging it over his shoulder. "Well, it's been great, y'know, shattering your worldview and all," he looked Sam up and down once more, predatory, "but I've got a hot date with lovely little Becky."

...

"Well that's 'cause you're a freak," Dean, the real Dean, teased from behind the wheel as Saint Louis disappeared behind them.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, thanks," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Well I'm a freak too. I'm right there with you, all the way."

"Yeah, I know you are." Sam looked down at his hands, twisting them nervously in his lap. The shifter's words bounced around his brain: He wants you. He shifted in his seat and bit his lip, the next part of the memory playing involuntarily.

Dean shot him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Dean...um..." Sam readjusted in his seat again, the Impala suddenly feeling claustrophobically small. "Well, I, uh-"

"C'mon Sammy, spit it out."

"The...the, uh, shifter. It...well it...there's something..."

Dean shot him an annoyed glare "Sam," he admonished.

"Do you want me?" Sam blurted out, his face blooming scarlet and his skin too hot.

Dean's grip tightened on the wheel. A muscle in his jaw ticked. "What?" His voice was too calm, too measured.

"The shifter, it said you wanted me. It...it kissed me. Do...do you want me that way, Dean?"

Dean was clenching his teeth so hard that Sam could've sworn he heard his jaw creaking. His knuckles were white on the wheel and his face, where Sam expected to see fiery red skin, angry or embarrassed, was drained of all color. Dean didn't respond or even look at Sam, just turned up the radio so loud that neither could hear themselves think.

Sam's stomach was in knots again, and this time, it was worse: he knew it wasn't disgust.

[whump-card]

This Death That I Chose: Chapter 9

1233 words

CW: death, child death (not explicitly described), guns, recapture, noncon kiss, pet whump

First, Previous, Masterlist, Next

~~~

Tao remembered thinking that it must have been fireworks. That there was no way the Commander’s Military had advanced so far overnight.

They had.

He’d stared out the window at the tanks rolling down the street while his brother and his wife rounded up their kids. Lilah and Rory. They were too young to understand what was happening, only that they were scared.

They got everyone in the car. They had the flashlights, the batteries, the canned food.

But Rory forgot his stuffed monkey. And Tao went back to get it.

An explosion rocked the house a second after he picked the toy up. When he got back outside, the car was in flames.

~~~

Tao knew it wasn’t fireworks this time.

Lark squirmed, and Tao’s grip on him tightened like a vice.

“I have to go-” Lark gasped.

“No,” Tao’s throat constricted, “No, I won’t let you.”

“Tao, please.”

“Everyone here knows what to do. We have escape plans.” He loosened his grip on Lark just enough for the two of them to be able to stand, then pulled him back close. “There are cars parked in the woods, we just go to the nearest one, okay?”

Lark lifted his tear-streaked face and hesitantly nodded.

“Okay.”

“Good, let’s get this on you properly.” He released Lark and took a step back, taking hold of the shirt draped around the young man’s shoulders. Lark obediently put his arms into the sleeves, and Tao forced his hands to be steady as he buttoned it up.

There was another smattering of gunfire in the distance.

The shirt hung loose and oversized on Lark’s small frame, and the tattoo around his neck stood out starkly, but it was better than nothing. Tao glanced around, spotted Lark’s sling on the floor, and scooped it up and looped it around Lark’s neck.

“Sit down and fix that while I get your shoes on.”

Lark sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, while Tao swiped a hand underneath the frame and pulled out Lark’s shoes.

“That’s where they were,” Lark commented numbly, nestling his cast into the sling.

“Yep.” Tao shoved Lark’s feet into the shoes with little grace, and stood, holding out his hand. Lark looked up at him, fear written all over his face, and took it.

“Now we run,” said Tao.

They left Faye’s – Dylan was nowhere to be seen – and instead of going down the driveway Tao led them to the road through the trees. At the edge of the street they crouched in the bushes, and Tao craned his neck to look down the road.

“Shit!”

There was already a squad of soldiers, moving up the road in a fan formation, illuminated by the high full moon. They had full tactical gear and assault rifles.

“Okay, listen,” Tao grabbed Lark’s shoulder, “You’re going to run straight across the road and into the woods, and keep going until you reach a path, okay? Follow-”

“No.”

“Yes, follow the path until you find the car, okay?”

“No!” Lark shook his head wildly, “I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” Tao said firmly, drawing his pistol, “When I say go, you go.”

“No,” said Lark, “You should run.”

“What?”

Lark stared at him a moment, breathing hard; then he moved faster than Tao would have ever expected. He grabbed the barrel of the gun, yanked it out of Tao’s hand, and started running straight towards the soldiers.

“Lark!” Tao screamed, starting after him. Lark threw the gun as hard as he could into the woods to the north. The soldiers spotted him and lifted their weapons.

“Don’t shoot!” Lark shouted, “It’s me, don’t shoot!”

The soldier on point lowered his gun, and the others followed suit. Lark reached him and flung his arms around the soldier, nearly tackling him.

“I’m here, we can go home now, please don’t hurt anyone!”

But Tao was fast approaching, and the soldiers went back on alert, training their weapons on him. Tao slowed to a jog, then a halt, his survival instincts overriding his need to stop Lark.

It was too late, he realized.

Lark looked over his shoulder at Tao, eyes wide.

“Please don’t shoot him!” he begged the soldiers, “Please – Tao, run!” His voice was a desperate shriek.

Tao could’ve run – but for as little time as he had known Lark, something prevented him from leaving the boy behind. He stood rooted to the spot, his mind a blank.

The soldier Lark was clinging to was tapping his earpiece and saying something Tao couldn’t make out from where he was. Then he pushed Lark off and behind him, and aimed his gun at Tao.

“On your knees!” he shouted, “You’re coming with us!”

Tao wanted to sob with frustration at the situation. They could have made it, if Lark had just listened to him. He slowly raised his hands and sank to his knees. He locked eyes with Lark. The boy looked petrified. Tao couldn’t be angry with him – not now.

A black SUV crested into view behind the line of soldiers. It slowed to a halt, as two of the soldiers advanced on Tao.

A man got out of the backseat. A tall, old man, who stood ramrod straight and wore a long coat and an officer’s cap, despite the heat of the summer night. He radiated power.

The Commander.

Lark tore his eyes away from Tao to look behind him at the sound of the car door closing, and he let out a small cry. He sprinted over to the Commander and abruptly dropped out of view. Tao craned his neck, and his stomach flipped with revulsion when he saw Lark had prostrated himself at the Commander’s feet, and appeared to be licking his boots.

“Lark!” he shouted, jumping to his feet, but the soldiers were on him now and they seized his arms. Tao struggled wildly, stomping on their boots, but they were unfazed. They twisted his arms behind him and efficiently zip-tied his wrists together. Tao didn’t take his eyes off the Commander as they manhandled him – and the Commander looked back. Tao felt ice run down his spine when those cold blue eyes found him. Simply being looked at by the Commander felt like a curse.

A van pulled up behind the SUV, and the soldiers started dragging Tao towards it – towards Lark and the Commander. Tao watched, growing ever closer, as the Commander snapped his fingers and Lark jumped to his feet. Tao was hauled in a wide berth around the reuniting master and pet, and as he passed the Commander fisted a hand in Lark’s long hair and leaned down to kiss him, as if to spite Tao specifically.

Tao let out a wordless shout of rage and redoubled his efforts to escape the soldiers' hold, to no avail. Still trapped in the kiss, Lark’s eyes rolled to look at him.

He looked scared. Desperate – but only for a moment before he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, sensually running his hand up the Commander’s chest.

Tao felt his legs go weak.

You’re not going back.

Everything’s going to be okay.

I promise.

It was all turning to lies, right in front of him. He’d failed. Tao went nearly limp, allowing the soldiers to frog-march him to the back of the van.

God only knew what would happen now.

~~~

First, Previous, Masterlist, Next

Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @whump-em, @morning-star-whump, @thecyrulik, @honeycollectswhump

[dead-dove-orchid]

Hey guys I made a freenoodles fic ❤️💖

+ version without words

[civilight-eterna]

Hope you've had a good weekend!! I love your works!!

It's my life's mission to spread the good word of Muelheyak and the possibilities of their enemies to enemies (sexual) dynamic. Would you be willing to cook up some messy elf getting dicked down with extra constrictor tail coiling?

thank you so much for saying so!! and thanks for this delicious request. okay FAIR WARNING it gets a little fucked-up and cruel but god DAMN is Ho'olheyak a blast to write.

cw: choking, asphyxiation, noncon/dubcon, bodily abuse (internal, external), tailsex

...

"Asphyxiation is a dreadful way to go."

Ho'olheyak is talking about it the way someone notices the turn of the weather outside: as though she's seated in a quaint little cafe and a gray rain has begun to pitter-patter against the warm glow of the window.

In no way does her tone belie the reality of what she's doing.

Muelsyse is completely bound in her tail, draped backwards over her ample lap. Her head is suspended upside-down, hair trailing and puddling against the floor, the end of Ho'olheyak's tail invading her mouth and worming against the back of her throat as the rest of it wraps around, leaves her more and more light-headed with each sinuous flex around her neck, her chest, her waist.

"But my, your body can take quite a bit, can't it? My lovely little elf."

Muelsyse groans from around her tail, struggling to keep her mouth open, hands helplessly pinned behind her back and against her captor's lap.

"...There you go. You already know what'll happen if you try to bite again. Good girl. Just like that. Open your throat for me."

Ho'olheyak's nails dance across the midline of her body, dipping between the gaps left exposed by her constrictive tail, admiring their way down between her legs. Muelsyse gags, hard and dry, around her tail, but her chest has nowhere to go from beneath it. She's just losing air.

She whimpers, tries to put herself into enough of a state of mind to push past the revulsion, to just focus on the abstract pleasure of being suffocated. If she tries to think of anything else, she's lost. She just has to live. She doesn't know what's in her captor's head-though as her fingers stroke deep between her legs she finds her prior suspicions confirmed-but the luxury to think beyond behaving in a way that pleases Ho'olheyak is long since passed.

She has to satisfy her. Her tongue laves obediently, and her legs squirm slightly apart to demonstrate her compliance.

Her reward is a wicked, sin-sweet laugh as one, two, three fingers plunge inside, too easily to hide what effect she's having on her body.

"...My, I didn't expect you for the type." She articulates her comments with deepening pumps of her fingers. "And just look at your pretty little neck now-" She coos, knowing full well Muelsyse can't see, even as part of her tail loosens from around it as the tip continues to swab it deeper, "-Your throat pushes forward whenever I push a little, like this-"

Tears spring to her eyes as Ho'olheyak demonstrates her complete dominion of her.

"-Like a cute little frog. Ribbit, ribbit. Hehe."

It hurts. It's absolute insanity. It's humiliating. It's-

-over.

All at once, Ho'olheyak slides her tail slowly out of Muelsyse's mouth, letting every inch of it drag from between her lips, letting all the saliva ooze down off of it and out of her mouth while she's still upside-down. It drips down her cheeks, threatens to spill into her nose, but the relief at being able to breathe again supercedes all else. All she can think to do as her tail uncoils from around her is to breathe, breathe, breathe. She's coughing and gasping miserably, her eyes dim and half-mast for want of air, light-headed from being inverted so long.

She's completely distracted with the prospect of simply living that it's already too late when she notices the wet tip of her tail teasing her clit, easing between her soaked lower lips.

"Uuuaaah-" Muelsyse wails as it plunges, wiggles inside, thrusting back and forth with unbelievable dexterity, rolling waves of pleasure along inside of her in a calculated rhythm. Ho'olheyak's hand presses against her stomach drags down low, petting her, and she can feel the shape of her tail bulging up against her fingertips through her body.

"So messy. Listen to that sound." Ho'olheyak teases her, letting each wet slap of every pump echo loudly. "You know...? I can give you something a little extra special. You've been so good for me."

Her tail starts fluttering around, as though looking for something. Muelsyse is already overstimulated, but the moment that the tip of her tail finds what it's looking for, she feels a sharp pain deep, deep inside, and can't help but cry out indistinctly.

"-Right here." Ho'olheyak spreads her free hand over Muelsyse's chest, caressing her pounding heart through her clothing the way a predator prefaces a mortal wound. "Your heart's beating so fast. Because down here-" The hand on her stomach drifts downward again, anchoring her-

"-I'm going to lay my claim to this tight little womb of yours."

The sharp pain from before stretches, intensifies, and Muelsyse sees white as the tail tip breaches the tiny space, flutters itself inside.

It's heaven. It's agony.

And it goes on, and on, and on-Ho'olheyak's tail continues to roll through her cunt, forward and back, even as the tip stays carefully lodged in that space, makes sure everything hurts.

She knows it's what she wants. She knows she won't stop until she's satisfied.

So she opens her mouth and sobs, without trying to hold it back. She doesn't ignore what's happening-rather, it's become a discipline of the lack thereof. She lets the pleasure crest high inside her like a wave-

-and comes, crashing down.

[suncaptor]

I KNOW that this is just a dumb joke Dean is making to break the tension of a very terrifying life or death situation they both went through but. uh. even casual even as a joke. the victim blaming never ends huh. like she sought him out and manipulated him and he never even expressed wanting to be with her verbally and yet he can get touched and kissed against his consent and it's his fault that the catastrophe is in his wake.

[melon-cream-enmu]

I've been wondering this for a while. In the 'big "happy" family' imagine, does Enmu place darling under a hypnotic spell again, or does he keep her lucid as "punishment" for having rejected him so often?

"Big 'Happy' family" here

Implied past noncon, threat of noncon, past forced marriage, forced pregnancy, past forced childbirth, hypnosis. Pre demon Enmu

Enmu would like to keep you lucid and will attempt to if at all possible. However, as soon as/if you start pushing back at him in ways that neglect your health or the babies, he's pulling out his old tricks and hypnotizing you again.

He's only one man, he can't take care of your baby and you should you decide to stop eating and providing for the baby growing inside you, or stop nursing the baby you always stare at with a hurt expression. Enmu knows you don't mean it, when he takes your daughter and bounces her when she gross fussy at your lack of attention. Mama's just not feeling well, that's all.

He knows you don't hate her, you often wake up in a cold sweat and make your way to her bed, gazing down at her as she sleeps or coos and reaches up for you. You wouldn't hurt your babies, he knows this, even if you don't.

Before he let you wake from his spell, you'd been allowed out and about, because he'd made sure you kept up the facade of 'beloved wife with a husband she adored', and the people of the town who'd known you prior would have no reason to believe it strange how you'd seemingly got hitched so quickly after 'the nice doctor' had come to town.

But you're not allowed out now, not unless he's with you. He can't risk you going to someone and pleading for help. He's since spent many a night holding the threat of hypnosis over your head should you even think about trying to leave. When you're in town together, there's only one thing keeping you from disobeying him.

Enmu planned to stop at two children, but he's not against having a few more~

[sordayciega]

Sadistic Beauty Sidestory by Yunhee Woo

This manhua follows Cha Wookyung (Whumper) and Byun Minho (Whumpee) as Minho tries to maintain a grip on his ever-slipping sanity with in the tight clutches of Wookyung. This story is very much nsfw!

This story is not 100% whump, but it is whumpy so I was like shiiiiii lemme just post something about it

cw: non-con and dub-con (sexual), non-con and dub-con (non-sexual), blackmail, physical abuse, emotional abuse, just general abuse, substance abuse, alcohol abuse, coercion, and probably a lot of other things.

also idk why it’s fucking bLURRY but whatever

[kenobster]

I can see that the whole stewjoni dualsex thing might be problematic... at times... maybe... But counterpoint: a) knock him up and b) uh, um, Triple Penetration In Three Holes

Look lmao, I'm not here to say what's problematic or unproblematic (unless you hate Anakin, of course... in which case, please consult my very serious Ted Talk on the subject).

Anyway, I said what I said in that answer, not because I think ppl who write Stewjoni biology should stop (I'm not a party pooper nor an anti, so please carry on ^_^), but rather because I was furious over a blatant hypocrisy on someone else's post lmao.

But on a personal level re your counterpoints.... and how do I say this gently...... Oh! Right:

YKINMKATO

Lmao, there we go.

In case anyone would like to drizzle some Fine Kenobster Tastebuds over their Fic Perusing Repertoires, they're absolutely welcome to consider my below counter-counterpoints.

(Note: I am incapable of getting horny over consensual smut, so we're assuming these are noncon/dubcon adjacent, but in full honesty, I'm sure you could wiggle these into any smut fantasy of your choosing.)

counter-counterpoint #1: i've read fic that made fortuna's thumb more erotic than any number of simultaneous penetrations.

counter-counterpoint #2: if u wanna get a biological boy knocked up, see below for instructions:

Step 1: Detach the bowels from the blorbo's anus and connect them to an external poop bag instead;

Step 2: Insert a uterus (along with a pre-fertilized egg attached to its lining) into the blorbo's abdomen;

Step 3: Connect the anus to the cervix (please note that no other modification to the anus is necessary);

Step 4: Ejaculate into blorbo's anus repeatedly (please note that, as the egg is already fertilized, this step may be completed as a fun little treat or skipped at your leisure);

Step 5: Pump blorbo full of pregnancy hormones while you wait for the fetus to grow to term;

Step 6: When your blorbo begins to go into labor, watch with mirth as his body fails to eject the baby through such an inelastic hole. Feel free to laugh yourself giddy as his ass-muscles get all torn up and scarred.

Step 7: Unless your goal is for your blorbo and its fetus to die, eventually show him some mercy and conduct a C-Section.

In other words, don't be a pussy about giving the blorbo a pussy.

counter-counterpoint #3: may I direct your attention to the many cunt-having blorbos out there? For example, Padmé has some very Obi-Wan-esque qualities, and she comes with a canonical interest in pregnancy and ready-to-lactate boobs! "But Padmé's not a Jedi," you whine. Bitch, please. If you're giving Obi-wan a cunt, then I think you can make Padmé a Jedi, yeah? -pats your head- Live your dream. Be free. <3

***

Anyway, if you were hoping for some serious thoughts in response to your ask, then (1) I apologize lmao, I have chronic inability-to-be-serious blogger syndrome; and (2) please copy paste your ask and resubmit it here instead. ^_^ If you do that, I promise that you will get a very comprehensive post that describes my exact opinions on the subject, no joke. Give it a whirl.

[hurtthemgently]

Whumper spreading whumpees blood across their lips, before bringing whumpee into a kiss, making whumpee taste their own blood

Or

Whumper buying a really sweet tasting lip balm, maybe even picking whumpees favorite flavor, and using it every time they kiss them.

[honeybunny-og]

A New Friend - The Whumper's Soiree

I finally finished! yay! Thank you to @worldofwhumpcraft for inviting me to @the-whumpers-soiree, and of course thank you to @painsandconfusion for hosting/creating this wonderful event!

CW: pet names, multiple whumpers, whumper couple, manipulative whumper, flirtatious whumper, talkative whumper, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, alcohol consumption, non-con touching and kissing (non-explicit), drugging, corrupted whumpee, suggestive themes (non-explicit)

“Two reds, please,” Arthur said, the hand placed on Beau’s shoulder squeezing tighter. 

Beau looked around the dimly lit penthouse bar, a soft and sultry jazz song playing in the background, as Arthur affixed the red bracelets to both of their wrists.

Beau looked back at Arthur, their eyes meeting for a moment before Arthur leaned over, his hot breath on Beau’s ear, raising goosebumps over their neck and back. 

“Don’t look at me, Beau, look for the blues,” he murmured. 

“Anyone I want?”

“Anyone you want.”

 Arthur squeezed Beau’s shoulder once more before releasing and taking a step back, slinking into the shadows. 

Beau’s eyes darted across the room. There were so many people mingling about, their faces strange and obscured by the mood lighting. Eyes glinted mischievously in the low light as figures with glowing blue wrists passed by. 

There at the bar, haloed by sunset orange lights, Beau saw the one they needed to have. They didn’t bother to glance around and find Arthur, they knew they were being watched very carefully.

Beau sat themselves down next to their new find. “What are you drinking?”

The young man looked up at them, his nervousness obvious in the way he swallowed before replying, “Gin and tonic.”

Beau motioned for two more from the bartender. “These parties can be pretty dry without proper libations,” they sighed. “You know, a good social lubricant is always appreciated.”

Beau could see the red spreading across his face and neck even with the orange lights tinting his skin. Perfect, Beau thought. 

“I’m Beau,” they said, taking a slow sip of their drink before extending a hand.

“I’m Dylan,” he replied, taking Beau’s hand in his own.

Beau’s hold lingered on Dylan’s hand, a light touch brushing his wrist and the blue bracelet encircling it. 

“Does the red bracelet mean you’ve been to this kind of party before or something?” Dylan asked, his own eyes lingering on Beau’s wrist. 

Beau smiled at Dylan, “Yeah, something like that.”

“I’ve never been to a party quite like this before,” Dylan said. “I’ve only been in this city for a few weeks and I don’t know anyone here, so it’s nice to be able to meet some new people.”

Beau pouted, their hand still casually stroking Dylan’s. “Aw, poor thing! I hope you haven’t been too lonely up until now. Life’s no fun without good company,” they expressed with a wink.

Dylan let out a flustered giggle, about to lean in and say more when a hand grasped Beau’s shoulder.

Knowing immediately who it was, Beau tilted their head toward the hand, nuzzling into it with their cheek. 

“Arthur, I was wondering where you’d wandered off to,” they teased, knowing full well what game the two were playing. “Dylan, this is Arthur; I’m his better half and all that.” 

“Oh! Um, hi, nice to meet you, Arthur,” Dylan stammered, throwing out a gawky wave. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

Arthur smirked and blatantly eyed Dylan up and down, taking note of his fidgeting fingers and reddened complexion. 

“So, what were you too giggling about?” he asked, an arm draping over Beau’s shoulders. 

“Oh, this and that,” Beau replied with a wave of their hand. “More importantly, Beau’s new in town, and he’s quite cute, so I think I’ve found a new friend.”

Dylan, eyebrows raised, exchanged glances with Beau and Arthur before stifling a laugh with a cough. 

Arthur leaned into Beau and nipped at their ear. “Careful now, I think you might scare him off,” Arthur teased, just loud enough for Dylan to hear.

“Hush, you; I’m only kidding,” Beau replied, swiftly sliding out from under Arthur’s frame and off the bar stool. They grasped Dylan’s hand in their own and pulled him to his feet. 

“Excuse us, sir, but my new friend and I have to go powder our noses,” Beau stated with a very pointed look at Dylan. 

Before Dylan could get a word in edgewise, Beau was guiding them across the busy lounge, weaving through the mingling masses of red and blue bracelets, and into the restroom. 

The restroom was deserted, the bright lights a jarring departure from the glamorous party they’d just stepped out of. 

Dylan could feel Beau’s gaze reflecting off the large mirror and onto him as they stood side by side at the sinks. He took a deep breath. 

Then, hands were on Dylan, pulling at his shirt collar, quickly followed by lips crashing into his. Beau was frantic yet indulgent; their grip was tense and wanton as they kissed deeply, evidently savoring the new experience. 

Dylan felt Beau tangle a hand into his hair. It was when a hand dropped and groped at his hip that he returned to himself, remembering that Beau’s partner was waiting at the bar. 

Dylan broke away, pushing against Beau’s shoulders, glancing from their wide, excited eyes to the restroom door behind them. 

“I’m not—I didn’t think you wanted to—” he stammered. 

Beau backed him against the wall, pressing their bodies together, crowding his body and thoughts. 

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be so shy,” Beau crooned, hands continuing their exploration of Dylan’s body. 

Dylan furrowed his brow and shoved at Beau again. “Seriously, Beau, stop it,” he seethed, trying to swat their hands away.

Beau sneered as they both struggled to gain control over the other. 

“Calm down,” they pleaded. “It’s much easier this way. Don’t worry your pretty little head, okay? Master and I will be so good to you.” 

“What?” Dylan hissed, mind sent reeling like he’d been punched in the gut. 

Then, he felt a pinch in his neck as a rush of warm static flooded through his veins. Suddenly, everything felt slow and unbearably hot.

“Wha’ did you--” Dylan slurred, acutely aware of his diminishing strength and autonomy. 

Beau smiled, peppering delicate kisses over Dylan’s face before pulling back, eyes dancing over him. They were an artist appraising their masterpiece.

The world was starting to blur and distort; Dylan was quickly sinking into darkness, watching the world melt away. The bathroom door swung open over Beau’s shoulder and Arthur stepped in, looming in the background. 

“Haven’t I done so well, sir?”

“Yes, of course you have, dear,” Arthur smirks, wrapping their arms around Beau’s waist from behind. 

“See, Dylan, our master can be very kind. So, don’t be scared or anything. I was just like you when Master found me, but Master made my life so much better by making me submit. And now, Master’s going to teach me how to be just like him. Trust me, after the pain there comes so much… pleasure.”

Thank you so much for reading! I might have to continue this story more cause, let me tell you, I have some... ideas... also i might have to write some drabbles set at this party bc this prompt is literally so good

[onedayillmakeanamebutnotrn]

cw/tw bloody halloween tomfoolery with some whumpee x whumper and possible non con kissing

whumper getting whumpee in a halloween costume to go out but both of their fake blood is whumpees maybe its only whumpee who constantly feels their own red juice on their skin and costume, having everyone see it but no one really knows what it is same goes for if both have it but yk might hit harder if its only one if u wanna add something then whumper kissing whumpee, tasting the blood on whumpees lips/skin and now sure whumpee is a bit cleaner but damn girl you just technically drank from me tf

[whump-card]

Forged Divinity Chapter 2: Phineas Kills Some Bandits

1292 words

CW: institutionalized slavery, religious themes, gun violence, knife violence, murder, noncon kiss

Previous, Masterlist, Next

~~~

Exodus 21:24

Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.

~~~

“If you were going to steal me anyway, why not do it outright?”

The sun was rising, filtering through the dense trees and a smattering of clouds, and with it came the Iowan’s confidence. Phineas and Leannan had been walking for about half an hour before Leannan started asking questions.

“You could have shot the merchant as soon as you saw me, couldn’t you?”

Finally losing patience, Phineas stopped and turned to look at Leannan.

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.”

Leannan shook his head, looking suitably cowed.

“Of course not, Phineas. I’m sorry, Phineas.”

Phineas narrowed their eyes, considering.

“Iowans are sworn to secrecy, right?”

Leannan nodded eagerly.

“It’s a sacred vow. We cannot share any secrets that anyone tells us.”

“What happens if you do?”

“God happens,” Leannan said simply, “He brings down divine retribution.”

Phineas turned their head away to roll their eyes. Unlike most people, they didn’t believe in God, and they were skeptical of the reasons behind the Great Fall, the executions, the burnings. But if it made the Iowan more obedient, they weren’t about to disparage his faith. They’d play along.

“Aright,” Phineas rolled their shoulders, “I didn’t shoot her with my gun because I carry a bigass gun everywhere. Too obvious. I left someone else’s calling card. Someone who deserves some trouble.”

“Why carry a gun if you can never use it?”

“Did I say that? I don’t think I fuckin’ said that.”

“Yes, Phineas, sorry, Phineas.”

“Shut up and walk.” Phineas picked up the pace again, and Leannan was left with no choice but to follow.

~~~

Phineas halted when they reached the edge of an ancient superhighway. It stretched out, wide and cracked, scattered with weeds and small, struggling trees. To their right it extended southward, and but to the left it was interrupted by a hulking mass spanning its width.

“What’s that?” Leannan breathed, with genuine curiosity.

“The Dead Blockade,” Phineas explained, “It was a border, a long time ago.”

Once just a building accompanied by covered lanes, the checkpoint had been added on to over the years – reinforcements of sheet metal, tanks, spiked barriers and cinderblock walls. It was all being eaten away by the elements now, and looked grainy and ragged, overgrown with kudzu.

“It’s no man’s land now,” Phineas continued, “It doesn’t guard anything – but sometimes bandits camp it out and try to extract a toll.”

Phineas took off their rifle and backpack, crouching down and unfolding the gun’s bipod legs. They set it down aimed towards the blockade, getting down on their stomach and putting their eye to the little telescope that rode atop the weapon.

Silence stretched, and Leannan shifted nervously from foot to foot. Then Phineas finally spoke.

“Jes, I see the fuckers,” they said, “Get down and cover your ears.” They retrieved a pair of protective headphones from their backpack and put them on.

Leannan hunkered down, pressing his hands over his ears. He had never seen a gun in action before, much less one being prepared to shoot. He watched as Phineas performed near-ritualistic actions, sliding levers and attaching pieces from the side pockets of their backpack before finally settling again onto their stomach, their eye to the sights.

For much longer than Leannan was comfortable with, nothing happened. Phineas barely moved a muscle.

When the gun did go off, even with his ears covered, it was one of the loudest things Leannan had ever heard. It sent a shock down to his core, and he couldn’t help but tremble. Phineas, on the other hand, remained as cool as a cucumber; they moved a lever up, back, then forward and down; a moment later, they fired again.

Phineas fired four shots total, each one making Leannan nearly jump out of his skin. After the fourth shot Phineas sat still for a long time, each second that ticked by making Leannan’s anticipation of the next shot worse. But a fifth shot never came, and eventually Phineas sat up from the ground and began performing their weapon’s ritual in reverse.

“You got them all?” Leannan asked as soon as Phineas took their headphones off.

“As far as I can tell,” Phineas replied, hoisting their backpack and rifle onto their shoulders, “Still need to be careful.”

The two of them approached the Dead Blockade, eyes darting to every shadow, every vine that rustled in the wind.

“Stay close to me,” Phineas ordered, drawing a large knife from their belt as they moved into a narrow passage through the barrier. Phineas emerged from the other side and walked a few steps, detecting nothing.

“I think…”

“Drop your weapons!” someone screeched. Leannan cried out.

Phineas spun to see a scruffy bandit standing behind Leannan, one hand gripping the Iowan’s curls and the other holding a knifepoint to the side of his throat. Leannan was a picture of terror, his raised hands trembling and his throat bobbing.

Phineas sighed. If it were them, if they’d been alone, they would have twisted out of the bandit’s grasp and dispatched them already. But now they had this… thing tagging along, making everything complicated. It had better be worth the payout.

“What do you want, bandito?”

“You killed my friends!” the bandit shouted, swinging the knife out briefly to point at Phineas, scraping Leannan’s neck in the process, “Monster!”

“Jes, jes, what do you want?” Phineas asked impatiently.

“I want – I want…” The bandit’s eyes darted around wildly before settling on the bead of blood building on Leannan’s neck. “The fuck?”

It was not the expected bright crimson, but instead a dark maroon. The bandit pulled Leannan’s head down to the side to expose the injury better.

“Phineas…” Leannan whimpered.

“Holy shit,” the bandit breathed, “You’re one of those magic whores. Holy shit!” His eyes snapped back up to Phineas. “You just start walking! Start walking, and keep walking! Holy shit…” Unable to resist, he turned his attention back to Leannan, licking a long line up the side of the Iowan’s bloody neck.

Phineas threw their knife.

Leannan let out a short scream as the knife thunked into the eye socket of the bandit. The bandit’s own knife dropped to the ground as he released it and Leannan’s hair, his hands groping his face as he stumbled backwards one, two steps before collapsing onto the cracked pavement.

Leannan spun to watch, pressing one hand to his mouth and crossing himself with the other. Once the bandit was still, he turned on Phineas.

“You could have hit me, asshole!”

Phineas smirked.

“But I didn’t, did I.”

Leannan sputtered as Phineas walked over and pulled their knife out of the bandit’s head, wiping the blade on the corpse’s shirt.

“I bet these guys have sleeping bags you can take,” they said, “Let’s find their camp.”

“I don’t want someone else’s dirty old sleeping bag!” Leannan raised his voice, finally snapping, “I’m not made to live like this! I’m not made to rough it in the wilderness! You need to sell me to someone with an actual goddamn house!”

“Oh, believe me, that’s the plan.” Phineas moved in close to Leannan, catching his jaw before he could move away. They lifted his chin, inspecting the scrape.

“You should clean that. Who knows where that guy’s been.”

“I’m immune to most diseases and infections, remember?” Leannan grumbled.

“Handy, that.” Phineas’ grip became bruisingly tight, and they leaned in and kissed Leannan on the mouth. Leannan made a small noise, but didn’t push them away. When Phineas released him and stepped back, he stared at them questioningly.

“I like you better when you’re feisty,” Phineas explained, “And what can I say?” they sheathed their knife and spread their hands wide with a crooked smile, “Killing people turns me on.”

~~~

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Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @thecyrulik

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist!

[cockworkangels]

why does buckleming have to make everything as uncomfortable as possible

[diejager]

any thoughts for yandere!pervy!könig who has to resist from fucking you so hard? knowing you're too weak and fragile to ruin, but palming himself through his pants whilst bathing you, or creeping on you as you sleep!!! 🥹

ignore if you want to!! can be somnophillia/noncon if you want 🎀🩷

How exactly am I supposed to ignore this??? This is such a good idea!

Yan!Pervy roommate König x fem!reader

Cw: Perverted König, dub-con, somnophilia, panty sniffing, panty stealer, scent/musk kink, handjob, tell me if I missed any.

He just can’t believe how lucky he got when you answered the ad for a roommate. He knew you were searching for a place to move in, wanting to move out of your parents’ place as a first step into independence and he’d purposely put the ad out a few weeks before you moved. The rate was low, lower than most apartment would cost - even for a old, beaten flat, but his was new and well-maintained - it was his way of silently coaxing you to room with him. König had declined every other, keeping it open until you finally contacted him.

The days between your first interaction and your move in were a blur in his mind, dazed with ecstasy and joy to be have you at an arm’s length. You were so small compared to him - as most people were - and so weak and fragile, limbs a third to his and as strong as a child in his eyes. You were so innocent and untouched, your tight little cunt still a virgin in this age. You were temptation on two legs.

He can’t remember the first time he peeked through the crack of the bathroom door, the glass shower doing nothing to hide your wet, naked skin as he palmed himself, groaning lowly as he fished out his hardened cock. He pumped himself, hand twisting as he reached the swollen head of his cock, thumb pressing against the leaky slit and using his precum as lube, jerking his hardened length more easily. He came at the thought of running his hands on your skin, kissing your collar and biting that beautiful neck, digging his hands into your thighs as he fucked into your small cunt. He hurriedly cleaned up and tucked himself back into his pants, burying the flush on his skin as he waited for you to finish your shower.

After the first month, jerking off while watching you shower wasn’t enough, he humped your cushion when you were out, dragging his drizzly cock over your bed. Face buried in your sheets, he drinks in your scent, that sweet rose and vanilla smell of your shampoo as he rutted into his tight palm, imagining that he was between your warm walls. König could come at the idea of covering you in his musk, your hair smelling like him, you skin tasting like him, you cunt leaking of him. He came so hard that it spurted all over your bed, his cum was on your blanket, on your bedsheet, on your cushion and on your headboard. Fuck, he loved the idea of covering you and your things in his cum.

When coming in his hand to the sight of you in the shower and your empty bed wasn’t enough, he slipped into your room at night, the only sound in your shared appartient being you soft snoring and his laboured breaths. He stroked himself, teasing his throbbing cock with slow pumps and watching your innocent oblivion to his dirty thoughts while you slept. He was crouched over you, his figure looming over your figure when he came, thighs spread wide over your hips and hand clawing your bedsheet besides your head, you warm breath hitting his wrist.

You’d wake up without knowing why you were coated in crusty substance or why you were missing another panty, your pretty, blue lacy panty gone from your drawer. König would be in his room, holding your pretty lace lingerie over his nose, sniffing it while he pumped himself. God, König couldn’t stop himself from covering your underwear in his load before handing it back to you, saying that he found it somewhere in the house. Then you’d wear it, your sweet cunny over the spot he came on, making him purr in satisfaction, a branding on you in the deepest way possible since he couldn’t bully his cock into you just yet.